


Such Sweet Sorrow

by LissaMU



Series: Colonel Fitzwilliam Interferes [2]
Category: Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst, Colonel Fitzwilliam POV, F/M, Goodbye Sex, Making Love, time stamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22637632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaMU/pseuds/LissaMU
Summary: Richard Fitzwilliam ships out tomorrow. He spends one last night with Elizabeth.AColonel Fitzwilliam Interferestime stamp.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Colonel Fitzwilliam
Series: Colonel Fitzwilliam Interferes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628449
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Such Sweet Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during Chapter 8 of _Colonel Fitzwilliam Interferes_ , Richard and Elizabeth's last night before he leaves for Portugal from his point of view. It's mainly just a long, sad love scene, and it made me cry when I wrote it.

The Fitzwilliams returned to their home in the country but came to London a fortnight before Richard was to ship out. They stayed at the Darcy townhouse to allow for easier preparation for Elizabeth's removal to Pemberley. Caring not a jot for propriety in the face of the coming separation from his wife, Richard had requested only one room for himself and Elizabeth instead of individual chambers. This was a difficult time to Darcy, as the knowledge that his cousin fell asleep each night and awoke each morning with Elizabeth by his side was enough to drive him mad. His suffering was nothing, however, compared to that of Richard.

Since receiving the letter informing him of the assignment to the continent, Richard had felt a sense of foreboding that he could not shake. At times he would look at Elizabeth and see not the young bride flushed with laughter, but a grieving widow, in black from head to toe and old before her time. He could not tell her his fears lest it cause her more pain, but somewhere in his soul he knew that he would not return to live beside his wife at Halgian.

The desire to stop time is as old as time itself, but that cruel invention only torments us further by passing more quickly on all the wrong occasions; thus, before he even realised a fortnight had passed, Richard Fitzwilliam found himself preparing for the last night he would spend with Elizabeth. He filled their room with candles and had the maid prepare a special hot bath. His wife, dressed in her robe, entered from her dressing room as he was lighting the last candle.

'You have immaculate timing as always, my dear,' he greeted her, putting the candle down and watching her expression as she took in the soft glow around her.

'Oh Richard, this is delightful.' They met halfway across the room and shared a deep kiss which Richard accentuated with a roaming hand.

'I have had a bath drawn for you,' he explained as he pulled on the silky tie of her robe, trying hard to memorise the feel of that soft material. The garment fell from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, revealing nothing but Elizabeth underneath. Richard sighed with pleasure at the sight of her and could not resist running his fingertips along the curve of her breasts.

'Will you be joining me in the bath?' Elizabeth asked seductively.

'Of course. Tonight, I will not be parted from you for a moment.' She stepped forward and pulled the shirt over his head, then bent to place gentle kisses on his chest as her fingers moved to undo his breeches. When he was finally as naked as she, the couple made their way slowly towards the bathtub, their eyes locked on each other as they moved. Just before Elizabeth would have stumbled into the water, Richard picked her up and placed her in the hot water.

'Rose petals!' Elizabeth cried gleefully, running her hands along the surface of the water where they floated. 'And lavender oil?' He nodded and climbed in above her. His romantic master plan had not taken into account, however, that the bathtub was not quite large enough for them to lie comfortably this way, so after much laughter and sloshing about, they managed to arrange themselves so that she was lying with her back against his chest. He nibbled at her neck as she relaxed in the warm water and enjoyed the feel of the rose petals floating between her fingers. Richard's hands roamed along her body, touching her softly, almost chastely, along her thighs and stomach. How he longed to freeze this moment!

The water began to chill as the heat between them began to grow, so they took advantage of this coincidence to leave the bath and make their way towards the bed, stopping briefly at the fireplace to dry themselves. Elizabeth climbed onto the bed and stretched out on her back, opening her legs invitingly and running her hand along the outside of her thigh. Richard could not deny this invitation; he positioned himself on top of her and slowly entered her whilst taking a nipple between his teeth and gently biting.

He was determined to love her slowly, deliberately, make it last all night if he could. But his attempts to keep a slow pace could not long be successful with the temptation of Elizabeth writhing beneath him, begging him with her every movement to go faster; he finally lost control and began thrusting with wild abandon, mad with lust and pain. He could _feel_ that this was the final time he would make love to her. His heart broke with each thrust that he feared would be the last. Elizabeth cried out with pleasure several times, wrapping her legs around his waist to force him in deeper, harder. Finally, he succumbed to the pressure and spilled inside her, his body rocking with the shockwaves. He prayed this would be the time that his seed would take hold, this of all times, this final joining. They both wept silently when he pulled out of her; he cradled her soft, damp body and cried desperately into her hair until they both fell asleep.

There was no time for anything in the morning. Richard had to be on the dock before dawn to meet his ship, so breakfast and dressing were hurried and silent. It was not until their party had reached the dock that he allowed himself to speak more than a word or two to Elizabeth.

'My sweet love,' he whispered, 'how I shall miss you. Promise that you will think of me, promise that you will write every day.'

'Yes, yes of course, Richard. And I shall expect to hear from you very frequently as well.' He swore that he would. 'I love you, Richard. Do not forget that. I shall pray for you day and night.'

'And I shall pray that you love me always as I love you, my sweet Lizzy. Take care of yourself. I know you shall be in good hands.' He glanced up at his cousin, who was wearing a pained expression that had little to do with Richard's parting, but Elizabeth's eyes remained firmly on his face.

'I shall not be comfortable until I am safe in your hands again.' All equanimity left him, and he crushed her against his chest with a renewed flood of tears. He did not care if the other officers saw him and teased him for the rest of his life; he loved Elizabeth, and he was not ashamed to show it.

Richard could feel Darcy's eyes on them as they embraced on the dock, burning with envy but also guilt; he did not want to love Elizabeth, and was doing everything in his power to keep his emotions in check. Could he blame his cousin for loving this woman? Of course not. She was every man's dream. And he had lived that dream. Trying hard to banish the feeling that he was passing her off to another, he gave her one final, passionate kiss and boarded his ship. Not a soul on the busy deck heard him whisper to himself, 'I shall never see her again.' Men bustled back and forth behind him in the usual business of such vessels, but he just stared back at the dock for as long as he could see Elizabeth's eyes.

_Shakespeare was wrong_ , he thought as he watched her beloved face disappear from view for the last time. _Parting is the bitterest sorrow of all_.


End file.
